CROSS ROADS

Although, he conversed with every other person in the large living room apart from me, I could feel his eyes, roaming about every inch of my bare skin that the sheer red satin, high slit dress I was wearing, did nothing to conceal.

And I tried – really hard, not to notice the piercing presence watching me, like a hungry hawk. So I turned my back to him, to block him out of my vision and my head.

Only Cameroon had the power to make me cry, but still crave for him badly. It had been six months since we called off our engagement, after I caught him in bed with his best friend – His best friend was a male. It didn’t hurt that he had been cheating on me, it tore me apart that I was in a competition with a male counterpart. It was a slap to my female ego.

I couldn’t tell anyone the major reason I broke up with him; I loved him enough to save him from the shame and that is why he was invited to my parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. They still considered him a part of the family, and blamed everything on my inability to grow up and tackle trivial issues with maturity.

Yet, I wanted this cheating son of a bitch.

The air around me became colder, tiny hairs on my neck stood; my body braced itself and I wielded around to face the coming danger.

He was right there; standing only three inches from my face. For a brief moment, his dark brown eyes penetrated deep into my soul, but he quickly diverted his attention to capture the interests of my friends, whom I had used as a distraction.

As he stretched forth his hand to give one of them a handshake, his hands lightly brushed my breast, stimulating my nipples in the process. I held back a soft gasp and he turned to look at me, giving me a knowing look, with a teasing smile playing on his lips.

It was at that moment I thanked God for my dark skin; it would have been more embarrassing if my cheeks turned the color of a beet. I had no idea what he was up to, but God help me, I was so curious. I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him, but I missed him so much. The way he kissed me, the way he laughed when he kissed me, with his voice vibrating in my throat. The way he whispered into my mouth, and embedded his teeth print on my collar bones……

These thoughts were beginning to leave a moist feeling between my soft folds and I squeezed my legs together to comfort them.

As if he could see my dewed underwear, he looked directly at me and wet his lips. He had known me long enough to recognize the need in my eyes, and I silently cursed my body for betraying its owner.

The period of crying, lashing out and hating was finally over. Although we had kept little communication during our time of trial, I tried to console myself at that point that I wasn’t a hoe. I just needed closure, and I was going to get it at all cost.

With a glass in my one manicured white finger tipped hand, and the other carefully holding up the hems of my exotic breezy gown, I made my way up the stairs, and disappeared into the corridors.

I laughed out loud to myself at the thought of how much Cameroon thought it was amusing to keep me waiting. It had been a little over twenty minutes when I walked into my bedroom. I could swear on my life that he watched me go up the stairs, and he knew he had to follow me. Yet, he made me wait; increasing the tension of my hard nipples and throbbing clitoris.

I wanted him so bad; so bad that it had been difficult for me to be with another man. Who else could fill my soul and my tight hole at the same time?

A picture of his thick veined muscle flashed quickly before my eyes. I leaned back into my soft white duvet bed and moaned satisfactorily. I was on the edge with every second that passed; something had to be done about that.

So I reached down to pull the hems of my cloth upwards and felt my red lace pant; it was soiled with my feminine juice. I closed my eyes and sighed. It had come to this, there was no going back.

Sheepishly, I slid my middle finger into my dewy folds and gently caressed my swollen clit. I didn’t need any form of lubricants; I was emitting enough gels to lubricate me properly.

Fuck, it felt so good. I closed my eyes tighter and tried to imagine that it was Cameroon doing this to me.

In my head, it was his tongue exploring my kitty, gently spreading my labia to reveal the pink opening, and his gentle hand rubbing my clitoris, going in circular motions. He blew air into my vulva and continued tasting me, looking up with hungry eyes to meet my helpless gaze.

Please fuck me.

I said it out loud. As I pulled my panties lower, I slid two fingers down into my vagina, while teasing my clit with my thumb. It could have been Cameroon’s hard dick, but I had to make do with what I had. I continued stroking the inner walls of my pussy, moaning his name softly, thinking about him sliding in and out of me, while I tightened up to trap his hardness in my juicy walls.

I was coming close to climax. If only the bastard was here, so I could grab on to his shoulders to support my weak knees, as he would thrust in and out, faster and harder, stretching my pussy with every intentional move. To further increase my orgasm, I raised my other hand to my face and dipped two fingers into my mouth to fill the spot where his cock should have been. I nibbled, sucked and pretended to take in his dose of thick milk.

My breaths began to get quicker and sharper and my body hinged away from the bed. My orgasm felt like fire and ice at the same time. Short gasps escaped from my mouth as my body jerked continuously for several seconds, before it finally calmed and I sighed heavily.

Then I looked up, and my heart froze. Cameroon was leaning on the door frame, his eyes glistening with burning desire. I had three questions on my mind: How did he get in without my knowing? How long had he been standing there? How was he able to control himself from devouring me?

Quickly, I sat up and tried to compose myself. My faced burned crimson, and this time, I was sure it was so obvious, irrespective of my ebony skin. Words failed me, I tried to look at other things in the room, just to avoid his gaze.

Then he gently removed his jacket, tossed it on a couch nearby and walked to the bed post, slowly.

“How about we start all over again?” He asked in the coarsest tone I ever heard him speak.